


Queen of Swords

by bboiseux



Series: CR2 Short Stuff [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: C2E004, Frenemies, Gen, Mild Language, Smartassery, mild violence, tarot reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-15 18:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bboiseux/pseuds/bboiseux
Summary: Beau and Molly are injured and trapped together.  Certainly it's the perfect time to do a reading for Beau.[For Episode 4!]





	Queen of Swords

The attack was fast and efficient.  In a moment, both sides of the road opened up with the cries of bandits and they were on the group, swords and daggers flashing.  Surprised and off-kilter, the horse went down first from a few quick slashes.  As Mollymauk and Fjord drew their own swords, the bandits pushed in on them.  It was chaos.  Bright and loud and messy.  Beau’s vision filled with the grime of the bandit’s armor, her nose with the smell of dung and dried blood.  But what centered her was the crack of bone as her fists slammed into the body in front of her.  A searing slice dug into her side and she spun round, flipping another bandit to the ground with a kick.  Jester yelled out something incomprehensible and there was a splash of crimson spreading across the ground.  Every way she turned, Beau impacted with armored bodies.  All around she heard cries of pain and shouts for help from her friends.

No one saw the blizzard coming.

It had been snowing lightly all day with ponderous clouds draping the mountains, but now there was nothing but white and the dull, earthy rumble of the wind.  Within moments, everything went white and frigid.  Breathing in, Beau felt her lungs sting and burn from the snap of the air as she rushed forward, slamming into a bandit.  She reacted to the dagger before she saw it, her fist connecting with the bandit’s nose and slamming it into his face.  As his body collapsed the dagger dropped away from Beau’s eyes and was swallowed by the thundering whiteness.

Nothing was visible.  The sound dropped to a steady roar.  Even touch and smell faded away.  Beau was wrapped in a heavy blanket of cold and she could feel her legs straining against the weight of the wind.  She had no idea where she was—whether she was still on the road or wandering into the dark woods and mountains that rose up on every side.  She couldn’t even tell which way was up and which way was down.  Beau knew that she couldn’t last much longer in this.  If she couldn’t find shelter, she was dead.  She pushed forward into the storm, hoping against all odds that she wasn’t pressing deeper into the wilderness.

Minutes dragged by in this void of cold and the snow began to thin just enough.  Beau could make out shapes a few feet ahead and her eyes no longer burned when she opened them.  Yet the wind still howled through the pass and the temperature was dropping rapidly.  And she couldn’t find the road.  Suddenly, her foot caught and Beau tumbled to the ground.  Burning cold rocks bit into her legs and she felt a burst of warm wetness that was immediately swallowed by the freeze of the storm.  She reached out and felt a slight heat beneath her hand.  Then soft cloth.  Then a sticky smear of dampness filling that cloth.  She readied a fist and moved closer to the prone figure.

For a moment, the snow cleared and she could make out pale lavender skin draped in flowery silks.

“Ah, fuck.”

 

The fire sputtered in the rush of wind from the storm outside and smoke twisted back through the cave.  Beau kept her head low, letting the plume of hot blackness roil above her head.  At first, with the storm still roaring its might outside, the smoke had filled the cave—the air heavy and hot in her lungs—but as the storm wore itself out the smoke more and more drifted out into the open air.  Now she just had to hope that the light didn’t attract any surviving bandits.  And hope harder that it did attract any surviving friends.

A groan across the way caused Beau to jerk upright and immediately clutch at her side, her vision flashing white, her body sagging against the cold wall.  The bandages had done their job, but now she felt them soak with renewed warmth.  She calmed her initial burst of flurried breathing and pressed against the wound, trying to will it shut.  Holding still, Beau watched Molly, wrapped in carefully prepared bandages up and down his arms and across his chest, flutter out of unconsciousness.

His head lolled against the rock floor and he blinked, willing his eyes to focus in the dim, flickering light.  As his eyes settled on the only other living thing in the cave, he coughed and then said, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, that’s right.  Still me.”

Molly tried to sigh and then coughed again.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” said Beau, “You know, for saving your life.”

Molly grimaced as he strained to sit up, “Oh thank the gods, you’ve saved me from having to say thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

They both leaned against the walls, breathing heavily.  The wind wailed outside causing the fire to sputter and sending another wave of black smoke through the cave.

Molly coughed again, this time from the heavy hot air.  His head dropped back against the stone and his eyes lolled back in his head.  The falling away of a limp arm revealed renewed blood soaking through the bandages of his chest.

Beau leaned heavily onto her staff, dropping the sackcloth back in her lap, and pushed up to standing.  “Gods damn it.”

 

Molly had been awake now for a few hours and what little conversation the two of them had attempted had slowed to a trickle.  He shuffled a deck of cards with one hand, flipping the cards slowly in and out of the deck.

His audience of one was suitably unimpressed.  “Are your cards going to bullshit you out of dying in a cave?”

Molly only smiled, staring at the ceiling as the cards cycled between his fingers, an ostentatious show of dexterity.  “I find that a little distraction goes a long way when faced with the uncontrollable.”

“Mmhmm.” Beau rolled her eyes and turned to watch the snow falling steadily outside.  She didn’t want to admit it, but neither of them were in any condition to go out looking for the others.  They had to wait.  And hope.  Beau wasn’t a hoping person.

Molly butted into her thoughts, “Speaking of the uncontrollable, how about a reading?  Want to know the future?”

Beau sighed and locked Molly with a glare, “Damn it, Molly, I’m not Jester.  I don’t think the future is sitting around to be looked at like shiny toy.”

“Ah, so you prefer being told things you already know.” Molly flashed the cards between his hands in an arch and then flung two cards across the cave floor.  He peered down, his lips twisted in a smirk, “Let’s see . . . the King of Coins and the Ace of Rods.  Do you know what that means?”

“That I should beat the shit out of you and take all your money?”

“No, this is the past—something you already know, not your terrible personality.  It means your family is shit peasants with money.”

Beau snorted and then her shoulders heaved into a full laugh, “Gods, Molly,” She stopped to take in a long breath and then fell into laughing again, holding her bandaged side tightly.  Finally, she sighed. “That was a weak sauce insult and poor showmanship.  Come on, man.  If you’re going to try and irritate me, at least make it juicy.”

Molly flipped out three more cards, face down.

“So, you want a full reading?”

“No, I want you to shut up.”

Grinning, he shuffled the deck, working the cards in his hands.  For a moment, Molly almost lost his grip on the deck, stumbling over the cards.

“Be careful, man.  You’d look really fucking dumb dying from a papercut.”

Without comment, Molly sent three more cards out onto the ground.

“The first two, these,” here Molly tapped the King of Coins and Ace of Rods, “are your past.  This card,” and here he revealed the Three of Swords, “Ah, well, that is your transition to the present.  It’s what links you to your past.”  Molly scratched his head and peered at the card again. “It says you’ve experienced a great loss.”  His lilting voice trailed off as he stared across the cave at Beau.

Beau stared back, lips pressed together in a don’t-give-a-shit look.  “Deep.”

Molly flourished the cards, fanning the remaining deck in his hand and fluttering it in front of his face.  “I doubt you’re imaginative enough to appreciate my craft, but know that I’ve read fortunes in the courts of many of the nobles of the Dwendalian Empire.”

“I don’t know, Molly, this just seems like a bunch of half-baked shit.  Wasn’t this, like, what you did in the circus?”  Beau leaned forward, “I’ll tell you what.  Tell my future.  Impress me.  And I’ll give you all my gold.  And,” She pointed at the cards, “Clearly, you know that I have a lot, what with my shit peasant family.”

The cards snapped back into a deck.  “All your gold and you keep your comments to yourself when I’m working the rest of the group.”

Beau cocked a grin.  “Bit hard to promise I’ll shut this mouth, but, okay, do your thing.”

“Is it a deal?”

“Yeah, it’s a deal.”  Beau folded her arms and then winced and lowered them again.

“Well then,” Molly placed the rest of the deck on the ground and focused on the spread in front of him. “Let’s rush through the present, since you don’t want to know what’s right under your nose.”  He flipped the next two cards, revealing the Page of Coins and the Chariot.  “You’re a student, but you are closely aligned with the gods.  Obviously, I know you’re a monk from your clothes, so I’ll just leave this behind.”

Molly flipped the next card and picked it up, examining it closely and holding it out to Beau.  “This is the transition you face.  It is the key event that will decide your future.”  He regarded the spread and then shook his head, “This transition is not far away.  It will come soon.”  He flipped the card, revealing the porcelain visage of the Raven Queen, looming over crumbling cities.

“Ominous.  So someone’s going to die.”

Molly flipped the next card, twirling the Raven Queen between his fingers.

“No, the next card is the Light of Pelor.  Something is going to end, but it will lead to hope.  You will be cut away from some aspect of your life,” he cast his eyes across the tableau, “Perhaps your family, perhaps . . . perhaps your sorrow.  Perhaps they are intertwined.”  Molly locked his gaze with that of Beau, “The cards tell me that you need to let go of your past to embrace your future.  You don’t need me to tell you what that is.  You know.  You know what you need to move beyond.”

There’s eyes stayed locked, neither saying anything more, a minute ticking past.  Then Beau broke the connection.  “Yeah, still sounds like steaming pile.”  She eyes jerked to the cave entrance.  “Did you hear something?”

Molly craned his ears and could just make out a sing-song voice over the wind, “Beauregard, Mollymauk, Beauregard, Mollymauk!”  Then, a deeper shout, “Beau!  Molly!  You anywhere?”

“Oh, thank the gods.”  Beau gripped her staff and slung the sackcloth bag over her shoulder.

Molly didn’t move.  “You’ve still got one card left.”

Beau dismissed him with a wave, leveraging her body up with her staff.  “Whatever, man.”

Molly flipped the last card—the Queen of Swords.  He swept up the other cards and placed them back in the deck and then picked the Queen of Swords up neatly, considering it as he heard Jester’s feet pattering towards him.  He looked up at Beau, walking away, and then back at the card.  “Eh, fuck it.”  He turned it around so the Queen’s head pointed downward.

“Molly, are you hurt?” Jester ran up and leaned over him, “Oh goodness, you are a mess.  We need to get you cleaned up right away.”  She regarded him and then made a disturbed squeak and helped drag him to his feet.  Molly grabbed at the deck of cards and stuffed it into a pocket while Jester groped at his clothes. “This is terrible!  We need to find a place to clean your lovely robe.”

Molly looked down at the blood seeping through his bandages and wrapped an arm around Jester.  “Don’t worry, I’ve got some excellent remedies for all sorts of stains.  They get anything out.  Do you mind if I lean on you for a moment?  Just a slight lightheadedness.”

“Oh!  No problem, Molly.  Lean away!”

They moved towards the entrance, where Fjord was looking over Beau’s injuries.   “Hey, Jester.  Can you throw a little of that healing magic Beau’s way?”

“Sure thing, Fjord!”  She touched Molly, “One for you,” then Beau, “And one for you!”  An energizing warmth flowed over both of them.

Beau stood up a little straighter and stretched.  “Thanks, Jester.  Can we get going?  Are the others okay?”

“Yeah,” said Fjord, “We all took a beating, but Nott’s looking after Caleb.  We’ve got a camp set up not far from here under an outcropping.”  He started moving back towards the snow.

“Beauregard!”  Molly was standing back in the cave grasping the last card.

“Yeah?”

“One last thing.”  He gestured to her.

Beau looked at Fjord and Jester—"Give me a sec, guys”—and walked back to Molly.

“You’ve got one last card.  You need to hear it.”  He tapped the card lightly, showing her the picture of a crowned woman on a throne, gripping a sword—although from Beau’s perspective the woman was standing on her head.

Beau rolled her eyes.  “Alright, go ahead.”

“This—” he tapped it again, “This is the Queen of Swords.  This is your future.  Right side up it refers to a perceptive, quick thinking individual, who holds judgment over the fate of others.  But it came out upside-down.  When its like that, the meaning is very clear.”  Molly left the words hanging in the air.

“Yeah?”  Beau drew the question out, straining to keep herself from walking away.

“Ah, yes, very clear.  It says you’re a bloody pissant.”

Beau fixed him with a long stare.

“Dope.”  She turned to walk away, leaning on her staff and dangling the sackcloth bag at her side, but then paused and turned, tossing the bag at Molly’s feet.  “Those are your swords.  I figured you didn’t want them left in the snow at the side of the road.”

She turned and walked after Jester and Fjord.

**Author's Note:**

> While Taliesin clearly knows a lot about tarot cards, Molly just as clearly is terrible at tarot readings.


End file.
